


In Which Debbie Gets Shit Done

by where_havealltheflowers_gone



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Brotp, Daddy!Mickey, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 09:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/where_havealltheflowers_gone/pseuds/where_havealltheflowers_gone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone was talking about Debbie finding out about Gallavich and being the one to get Ian home or help get Ian home and I did a thing</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Debbie Gets Shit Done

"Oh my god," Mickey grumbled as he tried to comfort the wailing infant in his arms. Just as he was getting his daughter to be still, the doorbell rang and she started up again. "For fuck's sake! Mandy, can you get the door?" 

 

"I'm in the shower, jackass," she hollered back at him over the sound of the water running.

 

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." He marched down the hall, baby tucked to his side. He yanked the door open to a wide-eyed redhead that looked kinda like- "We don't want any girl scout cookies," he told her, bumping the door with his foot.

 

The girl slammed her hand on the wood so he couldn't close it in her face. "My name's Debbie Gallagher. Ya know, Ian's sister?"

 

Mickey kept his face passive. "The fuck you standin' on my porch for, _Debbie_ _Gallagher_?"

 

She squared her shoulders. "We need to talk."

 

Mickey shifted his baby into his other arm when she started to whimper. "Now's not a good time."

 

Debbie just glared at him.

 

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Well, come the fuck in, if you're gonna stare at me like a dumbass." He turned so he could move back into the house, going into the kitchen to make his daughter a bottle. 

 

"I could do that for you, if you need help. I'm good with kids."

 

"I got it," Mickey mumbled. He eyed Debbie for a second. "Just.. hold her, would ya? While I make it."

 

"Yeah, sure," Debbie replied, scooping the baby from Mickey's arms and cooing at her. "What's her name?"

 

"Penelope," Mickey answered. He shot an adoring look towards the bundle in Debbie's arms before he shook his head and started bustling around. "What was it you were blabberin' about a minute ago?"

 

"Ian's missing," Debbie said very seriously.

 

Mickey paused an almost unnoticeable second. "And?"

 

"And I know you know where he is."

 

Mickey snorted. "What makes you think I know where Firecrotch fucked off to?"

 

"I'm very insightful."

 

Mickey didn't reply, opting instead to screw the lid onto the bottle he'd just pulled from the microwave. 

 

"And the fact that you know his pubic hairs are red is a dead give away."

 

"I made an fuckin' assumption."

 

"Likely story. Anyway. You hate everyone and you beat up gay men, yet you hang out with my openly gay brother. And he talks about you all the time."

 

"What's he say?" Mickey turned to Debbie and asked before he could stop himself. He winced. 

 

She grinned and took the bottle from his hand. She coaxed it into Penelope's mouth. "So," she started without looking up, "you gonna tell me where he is or what?"

 

Mickey sighed, bringing up a hand to tug at his lip. "Look, he wouldn't want you to know. He wanted out."

 

"So go and get him."

 

"I'm the reason he wanted out."

 

"'Cause of this?" Debbie asked, raising her arms to indicate the now sleeping baby. She offered her back to Mickey. "Ian is the kind of person who needs to talk about things. If you tell him how you really feel, he'll listen."

 

"I can't do that."

 

"Can't or won't?"

 

"I can't. I'm married."

 

"Did you choose it?"

 

"Of course not. 

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Would you have chosen Ian, if you had the choice?"

 

Mickey bit his lip and pushed past her so he could put Penelope down in her bassinet. He gripped the edge of it. "Ian knows I would've. Or.. I thought he knew." 

 

Debbie laid a hand on Mickey's shoulder and offered him a small smile. "I know Ian. He wants to hear from you. Call him, go see him, something."

 

Mickey nodded, then shrugged. "Maybe."

 

Debbie moved towards the door. "If you go, I'm going with you."

 

Mickey smirked at her. "You're alright, kid."

 

She slipped through the door. "And don't you forget it."


End file.
